


Midnight Stars

by aureliu_s



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Lowkey fluff but lowkey smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 20:26:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aureliu_s/pseuds/aureliu_s
Summary: I just started playing Dragon Age: Origins the other day and knew I had to write something. I made a female human rogue called Elyse and I am sO CLOSE TO ROMANCING ALISTAIR. Anyway. Elyse and Alistair's first time. Yay.





	Midnight Stars

**Author's Note:**

> May have had some minor tense issues with this one rip. Otherwise, I'm hyped to play Origins. Maybe I'll write some Inquisition later.

He looks her over carefully. Her armor was relatively bulky but her body...it was athletic, but soft in all the right places. He never would've guessed at how slim she actually was if he wasn't seeing it. He was baffled at how quickly she was able to overtake darkspawn; he guesses, however, that being light on your feet and uneasy to pin to one place solved that problem.

Her night sky-colored eyes are closed, but he didn't think she was asleep. Something in her breathing.  
His fingertips hover above her cheek before slowly drifting down, tracing the curve of her jaw, his thumb gliding gently over her bottom lip.   
Her face was beautiful. He keeps trying to think of what it reminded him of, but even after all this time, nearly a month and a half of being around her and he couldn't tell. But he knows she is gorgeous. At first he thought of her eyes like the dark blue of the Waking Sea, but now he saw them as the misty dark sheet of nightfall that came to put away the sunset. Her lips were pink and bright and always held a delightful smile. Her skin is perfectly tanned, her hair is a rustic blonde and cascaded brilliantly to her shoulders.  
He sighs happily, vaguely feeling his lips curve into a smile. His fingers are at her collar bone, tracing the dip at the base of her throat and going on, then down her arm.

  
He carefully slides his index finger beneath her digits, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. Her hands are soft from wearing gloves all the time, although lightly hardened in some places, with ghosts of blisters from skin rubbed too much.   
His thumb feels its way down the curve of her hip and then his palm flattens out up her stomach, up the center of her chest. Her breasts were exactly proportional to her size, on the smaller side but gorgeously round and full. He cups his palm against one and lightly brushed his thumb over a nipple, staring dreamily at her tan skin. She wakes up to the rubbing of his thumb and her eyes flutter open, and for a moment he swears he can see the stars without having to leave this tent. She asks him in a quiet voice if he has slept; he says no.   
She shifts and moves a little closer to him, closer into his chest, where his arms can easily hold her. He bows his head to press a cautious kiss against her soft lips, still a little swollen, and then one with a little more confidence. And he keeps kissing her, slowly, gently, relishing in the way that she holds his shoulders, enjoying the fact that her mouth parts for his warm tongue when his lips ask. Soon enough he returns to his position over her; hesitantly her legs spread to accommodate him. He kisses her nose and then her forehead, and asks her kindly if she wants this, or if she would rather sleep. Her soft hands slide up to the back of his neck and rub it gently. It is a soothing action, one that he will easily grow to love, and then she slowly gives a nod and tells him to please, be gentle. He promises he will.

They take it slow, and he thinks that if they survive this, they always will, because he can't imagine going any faster. She is still unused to him and tears decorate her eyelashes at first but he kisses them away, holding her hips, keeping his body low over hers so her breasts stay pressed against his chest. He takes it slow so he can lock away every soft moan of his name and every sigh where the warm breath hits his lips, every little kiss she allows him to indulge against her pillowy lips.

When it's over, it's no doubt midnight and he wraps them dutifully in his blanket, blows out the waning candle in the corner. He asks how she feels and she admits to him that she is a little sore but grateful that he kept his promise. He cradles the back of her head against his chest and wraps her tightly in his arms, his flower, his slim, tan, smiling rogue Warden. He murmurs into her hair that he would never hurt her, and then he falls asleep. And just like the first promise, he intends to follow through on the second.


End file.
